


Trauma Call

by LittleMissO



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23732197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissO/pseuds/LittleMissO
Summary: Bernie and Serena fail to communicate in person or on modern technology. They both get the wrong idea.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 26
Kudos: 37
Collections: Redvines Day





	Trauma Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fortytworedvines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortytworedvines/gifts).



Bernie sinks down gratefully into her less than cosy sofa, a large glass of whiskey clutched in her hand. The relief that her shift is over is radiating from her in almost palpable waves. She takes a large sip of the smokey dark liquid, leans her head back and lets the single malt burn in her mouth, trickle down her throat and hit her empty stomach – sending jolts of warmth coursing through her body. She shuts her eyes and lets the events of the day wash over her along with the wealth of emotions and feelings she’d experienced as the day unfolded. 

Seeing Cam again had been wonderful, despite the terrible circumstances. It had taken almost all of the maternal instincts she could she could muster to navigate her way through the moral and ethical maze of a situation he’d presented her with though. That they’d come through it the other side still talking was, she thought, nothing short of a miracle. He’d been discharged that evening with nothing worse than some cuts and nasty bruises, although he maintained that he was also nursing a broken heart after Keeley had unceremoniously dumped him. The dumping had taken place mid ward, just after the Police had realised the truth and arrested Keeley for drink driving - in spite of him not being to blame for them finding out. That had been down to a witness having come forward, adamant that driver had been a woman. It was much for the best, Bernie thought, despite Cam not quite being able to see it that way yet. Despite the extra aggravation it had caused them the Police had proved very understanding and declined to take Cam’s economy with the truth any further. Bernie had a sneaky suspicion that Serena might have turned her charm on them before she’d left the ward. A pointed reminder from Serena that the Police relied on co-operation from the Trauma Unit just as much as the Trauma Unit relied on co-operation from the Police would likely have made them think very carefully about the best course of action. Serena could, Bernie knew, be very persuasive when she wanted to be. 

Of course Bernie would much rather than Cam hadn’t been in a car accident or injured at all, but she couldn’t help but be pleased that she’d had the chance to see Cam again and build some bridges with him. He’d even gone as far as to install WhatsApp on her phone so they could keep in touch, much to Bernie’s delight and trepidation (technology was not really her forte). There was no doubt in her mind that, considering how badly things could have gone, the day had been in some ways a positive and successful one. It even seemed that, despite a few justifiable rocky moments and a certain amount of righteous indignation and anger, Serena had understood the rock and the hard place that Bernie had found herself between. In fact, Bernie dared to hope that Serena might have forgiven her – but that might be a bit too much to expect from someone who, by their own admission held life long grudges as a hobby. 

The switch of her thoughts towards Serena causes Bernie to take a large gulp of her whiskey. What, she wondered, had made Cameron think that she and Serena were together? She’d worked very hard not to make her feelings for Serena obvious and it was quite worrying that Cam had picked up on them so quickly. It made her wonder how many others might also have picked up on the fact that she was holding something of a candle for the curvaceous and enticing vascular surgeon. Her initial response to Cam’s assertion that she and Serena might be together had been to deny everything. She’d rapidly had to back track and confirm that they were more than colleagues and even go as far as to admit that they were friends. She’d refused to admit that they were anything more than that though. Technically she’d been right, they weren’t anything more than friends – no matter how much she might like them to be. And why wouldn’t she? The woman was gorgeous, as well as being vivacious, intelligent and the owner of a large, kind, if somewhat hidden, soft heart. Although she did her best to hide them, Bernie couldn’t help but notices the dips and curves of the delectable body that Serena seemed determined to hide beneath a range of loose, flowing and usually brightly coloured blouses. Bernie could feel heat surging round her body once again and this time it was nothing to do with the single malt. Serena was the kind of woman Bernie dreamed about – and even some nights the actual woman she dreamed of. Serena was also straight and that was a tricky obstacle to any possible development of a relationship between them. Bernie had thought that she’d done quite a good job of keeping the lingering gazes, heart eyes and sneaky looks discreet. Obviously not as good a job as she’d hoped if Cam had picked up on it so quickly. Despite the warming effects of both the whisky and thoughts of Serena, a chill runs through her veins at the thought that Cam might not be the only one to have realised that her feelings for Serena weren’t entirely platonic. The thought of the pitying look she’d find in Serena’s eyes if she ever found out was almost more than she could bear. The look on her face when Bernie had been outed as gay by one of her patients had been bad enough, she couldn’t imagine how mortifying it would be if she found out exactly how she felt about her. She was going to have to make a bigger effort to keep her feelings in check. She was, after all, a professional, mature, fully grown woman, not an adolescent boy. How hard could it be to act like an adult? An image of Serena appeared in her minds eye and Bernie, with a sinking feeling, realised probably a lot harder than she had first thought. 

She considered her options. If she couldn’t guarantee her own behaviour maybe she could guarantee Cam’s behaviour. She reached for the mobile sat next to her on the sofa and turned it over and over in her hands, considering her next move. Perhaps, she mused, it might be time for her to get to grips with WhatsApp. She opened the app and gave it a cursory glance. It did indeed seem to be as user friendly as Cam had promised her it would be. Deciding what to say to Cam was proving more of a challenge. Finally she came to the conclusion that the best approach was to keep it as low key and humorous as possible. It took her several attempts to try and mentally compose something suitable. Well, try and fail. Her frustration at herself for not being able to find the exact turn of phrase she needs grows until finally, in exasperation, she opens up a new chat and types the best message she can muster, and deciding that it’ll have to do, decisively hits the send button and swallows the remainder of her whisky in one large gulp.

In her leafy detached on the outskirts of Holby Serena too was sat on her sofa re-visiting the events of the day. The glass she was holding, however, was filled not with whisky but with the deep red of shiraz. After the shift she’d had she was in sore need of a glass or two. The first few sips of her full glass are just starting to relax her enough to let her begin to make sense of everything that had happened when a noise from her phone breaks the chain of her thoughts. Not entirely unhappy at the chance of a distraction from her thoughts she reaches for the phone and checks the screen. It’s a WhatsApp message from Bernie. Serena hadn’t known that Bernie knew what WhatsApp was – let alone how to use it. Intrigued by what Bernie had to say after everything that had happened between them that day she opens the message and starts to read. When she gets to the end she reads it again from the beginning and looks at the screen quizzically. She takes a large sip of her wine and reads the message a third time. It still doesn’t make much sense.

*Hi. I’m glad that we could work things out today. I hope you’re home safe and resting. Be careful though, you might have done some serious damage to your head if you think you can see anything going on between Serena and I. She’s not exactly my type*

When she reads it through for the fourth time it suddenly becomes clear – the message isn’t for her, it was for Cam. The initial rush of relief Serena felt at having figured out what the message was about was soon overtaken by a surge of indignation. Was it really that ridiculous to think that something might happen between them? To the point of it only being something that a person with serious head injuries would consider a possibility? Was it really that far fetched? And as for her not being Bernie’s type – well that was just plain rude, stating it so bluntly! Just who did Miss Wolfe think that she was? Serena thought to herself. After all she’d done for Bernie today, after how much she’d put on the line for her! It was so ungrateful, so hurtful, to have been made a joke of, to have been dismissed so roundly. It wasn’t as if she’d expected external gratitude, grovelling, or declarations of love – but a little respect and appreciation surely wasn’t too much to ask? She was about to fire off a haughty retort, but she found herself pausing, fingers hovering over the screen. Could she perhaps be reading a little too much into the message? Or, more accurately, was she maybe over reacting to Bernie’s declaration that she wasn’t her type? Because, much to her surprise it turned out that Bernie was exactly her type.

Up until a few weeks ago, before Bernie had arrived as a permanent fixture on AAU, Serena had never thought of herself as anything other than straight. But, as Bernie had slotted herself into Serena’s ward and life seamlessly, almost as if she’d always been there, Serena had found herself wondering more and more exactly how straight she really was. The more they had worked together, the closer they’d got and the more natural it had become for them to consult each other about work and confide in each other about their lives and worries outside the ward. By the time they’d opened their Trauma Bay Serena had fallen for her colleague. Not that she’d known it at that point. Well, she had known it, she’d just refused to admit it to herself or anyone else. When she’d started to catch herself staring after Bernie wistfully, standing far too close to her colleague and take any chance to touch her she’d she’d had to face the truth – she more than liked Bernie. Serena was an affectionate and tactile person where her friends, it was true – but even she was hard pushed to find a platonic explanation for that back massage in their office. No, Serena thought, much to her surprise, she was far from as straight as she’d previously believed and she’d fallen for Bernie Wolfe – of all people. The proof positive was today’s events. Had anyone else pulled a stunt like that on her she would have verbally eviscerated them at the very least. Bernie, however she’d forgiven, a matter of hours after she’d put the pinnacle of their joint achievements at risk. 

What she was going to do with these joint revelations she hadn’t entirely decided. There was a part of her that wanted nothing more than to explore this exciting newly discovered side of herself. Another part of her was scared of exactly what she might find, or what it might mean if she dida. It seemed that Bernie had taken the decision of whether to explore any of this with her (Serena’s preferred avenue for any exploration) out of Serena’s hands with her misdirected message. In truth it barely mattered who the message had been for – it was still what Bernie thought. Bernie didn’t think Serena was her type. 

Objectively Serena knew that she was an attractive woman. She’d had her fair share of admirers over the years and was not unaware of the effect she could have. She wouldn’t have gone as far as to say she was stunning or beautiful – she didn’t have an unrealistic view of her charms, but she had a certain something. She was also aware that, despite what seemed to be popular opinion, just because a woman had a preference for other women it did not mean that she had to be attracted to all women or any specific woman. That being said it did feel very much like a personal rejection to see Bernie’s lack of attraction to her flashing up on her phone. Her feelings of hurt and irritation were not helping her work out what she should do about the message. She reaches for her wine glass, takes another sip, and fiddles distractedly with the glasses stem. The thought occurs to her that if Cam thinks there is something going on between her and Bernie then she may not have been as discreet and subtle about her growing attraction as she had believed. Her mind races back through the day to try and work out what might have given him that impression. She realises that she and Bernie had spent a lot of time having discussions of varying degrees of intensity in a variety of quiet corners and shut offices. Nothing that couldn’t be explained away as colleagues consulting though. Then she remembered the way that she’d rested her hand between Bernie’s shoulders and how she’d rubbed her back comfortingly. Much, much harder to give that an innocent slant. This could be a much trickier situation to deal with than she’d anticipated she mused.

She puts the phone down recognising that any response is going to have to be very well though out. Instead she takes a large gulp of wine, almost draining the glass. It’s in the lees of the Shiraz that she finds sudden inspiration. If the message wasn’t for her then there really is no need for her to reply. It seemed a very logical and very agreeable solution to Serena at that moment and she saw no reason not to go with it. Decision made Serena headed to the kitchen to refill her glass leaving her phone, complete with it’s unwelcome message, on the coffee table.


End file.
